I had en epiphany. After turning down date after date. Offer after offer. No, I’m not gay. I just don’t have any time for love.
In among the bookings, the writing, the ambition to be something bigger, something better, it dawned on me… I don’t have the energy or effort to expense to make someone else happy. I mean sure, I take time for my friends and family if they need me via phone call or whatever. But the last time we all went out for shits and giggles was months ago. My socializing occurs within my network of associates while we work. If we didn’t make some fun out of what we do we’d go mad. However, what we do is incredibly exciting, it’s just nice to share it and laugh about it with someone.
Fact is though, at the end of the day, all I have time for, is to come home, flop on my couch, and put on sex and the city re runs til I pass out. Every night when I go to bed I go to bed exhausted. I don’t have a man, and frankly I don’t care. I don’t want one. I love my life and I wouldn’t change a thing. Ok that’s a bit of a lie. The only thing I would change in my life is the number in my bank account… Maybe add 6 or 7 zeros and I’ll be perfectly content. Until then, don’t call me heartless. I like the idea of a man, but the reality isn’t as tasteful.
I’ve finally realized…
I’m 29 years old, and I love men… But I love me more.